Lights of Gotham
by Silver Spider
Summary: When they took the car out for a joy ride through the streets of Gotham, Dick was sure he'd cataloged every possible reason it would end badly. He never imagined this.
1. Part I

_**Author's Note:**_ Hey, guys! If you're new to my stories 'Welcome!' If you're coming over from 'The Changeling' or the 'Wayne Brothers' fics, 'OMG you stuck around!' No, but seriously, I'm glad to have you back semi-across fandoms. This is going to be different than what you're used to from me in hopes of accommodating the differences in the characters from the comics to the YJ-verse. Special thanks to my friend Chris and 8swords who beta-read this fic for me and provided awesome commentary.

I have another fic I'm working on now for the comic-verse too that I'll try to post in parallel to this. It's called 'Deluge in the Wasteland' and it's an AU set two months after 'Son of the Demon' and it's – le gasp – a romance! So be on the lookout for that too. In the meantime, enjoy 'Lights of Gotham'.

**Lights of Gotham**

**By: Silver Spider**

Thirteen-year-old Richard John 'Dick' Grayson was going to achieve what no super-villain – not even the Joker – had. Tonight, he'd make Batman break the one and only rule.

"He's going to kill me." His hands clasped the handle on the side door in a white-knuckled death-grip, and he pointed at himself with the other. "See this? Dead _dead_ Robin."

"Oh, come on." In the driver's seat, the spot that only Batman had ever occupied, Wally West rolled his eyes. "He's off with the League in that secret space base of theirs. We'll get this back before he even notices it's gone. He'll never know."

Dick said nothing, just gripped the handle tighter. What had he been thinking! Okay, so every kid _dreams_ of driving the Batmobile, but only he had ever actually ridden in it. He would have been perfectly happy to let that go on, except that his friend thought with Batman's absence, this was the perfect opportunity to take the car out for a joy ride. It wasn't like Robin couldn't hack his way to the controls, and they wouldn't be long. Just around the block.

Really.

Halfway into the heart of Gotham, he had to wonder yet again why he'd agreed to this suicidal endeavor. He was a-_way_ smarter than this. Except that Wally was his best friend, the only one that crossed over to both hero and civilian identities. It was nice to actually spend some time with someone close to his own age who he didn't have to hide one or the other from. It wasn't like they didn't know how to drive... or like a single cop in Gotham would try to pull over the Batmobile. Still...

"He's gonna know!" He protested. "You know how he's gonna know? 'Cause he's Batman! He knows everything!"

"He won't if you don't tell him." Wally reached into the bag of chips at his right hand.

Dick tried to think about the last time he'd tried lying to his adoptive father. He couldn't even remember what it was about, except that he'd spent four solid days walking on eggshells, and Bruce hadn't said a word. When the guilt became too much and he finally fessed up, Bruce had simply nodded like he'd always known. When Dick finally gathered the courage to ask if he would have ever called him out on it, all he got in return was a raised brow and a silent look that clearly said, "You don't really want to test that strategy."

"Okay, whatever." He didn't want to fight with the older teen. "We came. We saw. We test-drove. Let's just go back now."

Maybe if they got themselves and the car back to the cave in one piece, Batman might actually let him live, though Dick already knew he'd be ground for life. Still, that was better than no life at all. But this was Gotham, where if things could get worse there was a pretty good chance they would.

Tonight was not going to be an exception.

There was a loud 'pop!', and suddenly the car was swerving wildly. Dick yelped, and Wally actually squeaked in surprise. The forecast had called for rain, but in the late November it got cold enough for the ground to be covered with a thin layer of slush. If it had been any other car, they would have already crashed head first into the nearest building. As it was, the anti-lock breaks and traction control took over on autopilot, bringing them to a rough but safe stop.

Automatic training kicked in instantly as Dick assessed the damage. The questions were second nature to him by now. He could hear Batman's voice in his head as if he was right there.

Question: _Are you alright?_

Answer: _Yes. No major injuries. Just a few bruises._

Question: _Is anyone with you? Are they alright?_

Answer: _Yes, and yes._

Question: _Are you in danger?_

Answer: _Only when you find out._

Glaring at his friend who was blinking away shock, he got out of the car to assess the damage. His boots splashed in the slush, and the wet cold of the night air made him wrap the cape tight around his shoulders. Right side was fine, so was the back and the front. They'd skidded to a halt half way onto an empty sidewalk but not into any building thanks to the smart on-board computer that was very much aware of the car's surroundings. He thought they were in the clear until he walked around to the driver's side. Then Dick stared.

"Wally!"

"Uh..." The other boy was just making his way out. "What?"

Instead of answering, Dick pointed at what he'd been staring at: the left front tire... or rather what was left of it. Pieces of rubber still hung loosely on the axis, but the whole thing had been blown out, clearly undrivable. His friend turned to him.

"The Batmobile gets flats?" He quirked a brown. "I'm underwhelmed."

"I'm going to die," Dick repeated blandly, now resigned to his fate.

"Would you quit it with the dying? I can't believe Mr. Always-Be-Prepared didn't teach you how to change a tire on this thing."

Okay, that was fair. They did have a spare in the trunk. It took them a total of fifteen minutes to get everything in place, almost to the point where Dick thought the new one looked indistinguishable from the original. He might just get away with this... Next to him, Wally stretched and grinned.

"See? Problem solved. Now let's get out of here. No offense to this charming city of yours, but this place gives me the creeps."

It was only then that Dick looked up and took a real inventory of their surroundings. And all of a sudden he didn't care about the tire or how much trouble he'd be in. Because he knew _exactly_ where they were, and this... this was wrong!

"Yeah," he agreed, trying to hide his unease. "Let's go back."

They had just sat down and closed the doors, when the voice that made both boys freeze in their seats came across the speakers, crisp, clear, and ice cold.

"Why did the pair of you take my car? And what are you doing in Crime Alley?"

Wally clasped his hands over his mouth. Dick sucked in his lips. They stared at one another, each too afraid to answer. Dick stared at the radio as if something might come out and bite him at any moment. It wasn't too far from the truth. Batman didn't wait for an explanation.

"I'm taking control of the Batmobile." The door locks clicked into place automatically, effectively trapping them inside. "You're both coming to Mt. Justice to explain this in person."

Then the radio went silent. Wally marginally relaxed as the car took off, but Dick's eyes were still wide. He was Robin, the boy wonder, the kid that every other kid wanted to be. He leaped off rooftops and took down bad guys without breaking a sweat or a pang of fear. But there was no way he was going to survive this.

Well, it'd been a good life while it lasted.

"Dude!" Wally's shout broke through his musing. He blinked and saw that his friend was holding up the empty bag of chips. "If you wanted some, you could've just taken one with you."

Dick didn't even have the strength to tell him he hadn't touched his stupid snacks.

* * *

><p>When the car pulled into the hanger bay of Mt. Justice less than ten feet away from him, Bruce did his best to make sure the expression on his face was completely neutral. With the cowl covering more than half, it might have been hard to tell for most people, but Dick could read him better than anyone save Alfred. Besides, the neutral, unemotional expression would be far worse than any anger. Anger was useless when dealing with the children.<p>

Next to him, Wally's uncle, Barry Allen, shifted impatiently. Speedsters usually had a problem standing still, and even the man seemed nervous about what he'd say. His own mask was pulled back.

"They're just kids, Bruce," he reminded him, as if he'd threatened summary execution. "Whatever they're imagining for their punishment is probably worse than anything you're about to dish out, right? Right?"

He ignored him. Sometimes it was the only way to deal with the man. The car doors opened simultaneously, and the two boys – thankfully with the sense not to wear civilian clothes – slunk out slowly. Even Wally was surprisingly silent and not too quick to make his way over to where he and his uncle were waiting for them. Dick wouldn't look him in the eye.

"I don't need to tell you that your actions were stupid and irresponsible," he used the Batman voice that sent most Gotham thugs running for the hills. "Overlooking the fact that you are both unlicensed, you took the car without permission..."

"...that you'd never give," Wally muttered. An elbow in the side from Dick silenced the boy.

"That was your one comment," Batman glared. "Interrupt again and this will be the last time you see the inside of this mountain. As it is, you are both barred from entrance for three weeks. I consider that _extremely_ light. Wallace, your uncle will add whatever punishment he feels is appropriate. Dick, we will talk at home. And believe me, we _will_ talk."

Dick finally looked up. Seeing the unspoken request, Batman gave an almost indistinct nod, giving the permission to speak.

"What about the others?"

"I will not punish your teammates. If your assistance is truly required, you will be allowed to accompany them on missions. Those decisions will be made by myself alone. Do _not_ attempt to plead your case to the others."

"And don't think your parents won't be hearing about this," Allen added to his nephew.

Wally bit his lip. "It's not like anything happened."

Behind the lenses of the cowl, Batman's eyes turned towards the car. The doors had been left open, and he'd been listening to something for a few minutes now. Distracted by the boys, he couldn't be sure at first, but now he was.

"Nothing happened?" He repeated at Wally who paled all of a sudden and swallowed. "How many people do you suppose are breathing in this room?"

The odd question clearly threw the teen for a moment. He looked around. "Ahh... unless you have the others listening in from somewhere... umm... four?"

"Wrong," said Batman, calmly but pointedly stepping past them towards the car. "Five."

He reached inside, behind the front seats. He could feel the others behind him, looking over his shoulder, but ignored them in favor of focusing on what his right hand had closed around. A yank, some scrambling, and the sound of something crunching on the floor as a few crumbs of what looked like potato chips tumbled out. This was quickly followed by the emergence of a pair of bright blue eyes that blinked up at him.

"Umm... hey..."

From the corner of his eye, Batman could see the others staring, but his attention was entirely focused on the revealed stowaway. The boy was filthy, dark hair and tattered clothes wet with slush. He was skinny and pale, dark circles under his eyes looking more like bruises than anything else. His hands were balled up in firsts, shaking slightly, but Batman saw little of fear in his eyes. That, more than anything else, gave him pause.

"How did you end up in my car?" he asked the child flatly.

"When they were busy with that tire." The boy pointed at the gawking Kid Flash and Robin over Batman's shoulder. "I smelled food. Meant to leave 'fore they got back, but... it was cold, and I kinda figured there might be more food."

"You ate my chips?" Kid Flash pointed indignantly, which earned him another jab in the ribs from Robin. Even from his peripheral vision, Batman could see that his partner's expression was very serious. He also noticed that the boy tensed. His nose was running a little, and he wiped it with the back of his sleeve, smearing more dirt on his face. Under the cowl, Batman frowned.

"You don't have to be afraid of them," he told the boy. "No one here will hurt you."

What he got in return was a dubious look. "Tt. _You_ won't. Everyone in Gotham knows you only beat up criminals. And I'm not a criminal."

"You _did_ break into my car," Batman pointed out mildly.

"They left the door wide open!" The boy protested flinging a hand at the older two.

_And now he's arguing with me._ Again his expression revealed nothing, but privately he was amused and maybe even a little impressed. Most of his own teammates – never mind adversaries and civilians – wouldn't dare talk back to him. It wasn't necessarily the kind of fear he consciously strived for, but he had to admit it was useful at times.

"What's your name?"

"Jason."

"Your full name."

"Jason Peter Todd."

"Front and center, Jason Peter Todd."

The boy climbed fully out of the car and stood before him. He was about two inches shy of four feet and far thinner than Batman had first estimated.

"Robin and Kid Flash will show you were the kitchen is," he told the boy. "But first you need to tell me your parents' names so we can call them for you."

Jason's look grew darker than he'd ever seen on anyone so young. "They're dead. My mom is, anyway. Don't know 'bout the old man. He might be in jail or dead, too. Don't know. Haven't seen 'im in like... a year."

"So who takes care of you?" Robin blurted from a step beyond his right.

"I do," the boy glared back. "Handle myself just fine."

"You handle yourself 'just fine' in Gotham's East End?" Robin stared at the child before turning to him. "Batman..."

"Be quiet."

He exhaled slowly through his nose, sensing that this had just become a lot more than a joy ride gone awry. His adoptive son, who was almost always so calm and easy-going, was now on the verge of panic, and it wasn't because he was in trouble. He looked at Allen who, for once, seemed just as serious.

"The two of you, take him to the kitchen," he nodded between him and his nephew. "Give him something to eat. Something light. I need to speak with Robin. We will join you shortly."

"Sure," Allen nodded. "Come on, kid. We don't bite. Promise."

Jason hesitated, looked up at Batman, then went along, his soggy sneakers making squishing noises on the concrete floor of the hanger. The instant the hanger door closed on the trio, Dick all but tore off his domino mask.

"I'm sorry!"

* * *

><p>Bad. Bad, bad, <em>very bad<em>!

First the car, then the tire, then Crime Alley, and now this kid... this orphan. Dick didn't even know _why_ he felt like he'd been punched in the gut by Clayface, why he almost felt like crying. He only ever cried around the anniversary of his parents' deaths. And now Bruce pushing back his cowl and was looking at him the same way he did when the visited the graveyard, not like he was in trouble. He _should_ have been in trouble, damn it!

"I'm sorry!" he blurted out.

"Dick..."

"Really _really_ sorry! I'm never going to listen to Wally ever again."

"Dick," the man placed both hands on his shoulders. "It's okay. I'm not mad."

"You should be!"

"You're not hurt. Neither is Wally or anyone else. Everything else we can work out. Take a deep breath."

He did as he was told, feeling only slightly better. "What are we going to do? About the kid. I mean, we can't just take him back where we got him from. He's..."

"...been to the hideout?" Bruce supplied for him knowingly.

Dick slowly nodded, grateful that his mentor knew him well enough to know when to cover for him even from himself. He didn't want to explain, didn't even know if he could put into words why the younger boy bothered him so much. He knew what it was like to be an orphan and he knew the streets of Gotham, but something in the way that boy talked about it just sent chills up his spine. Bruce patted his shoulder.

"Do you have any clean civilian clothes here?" Dick nodded. "Can you go get him something warm to wear for now?"

He gave him a dubious look. "Sure. I don't mind or anything, but... I mean, I'm not that big, but he's gonna _drown_ in anything of mine."

It was his father's turn to let out a deep even breath, and Dick balked. _Stupid!_ When was he going to learn to think before he opened his mouth? This was hitting Bruce just as hard – if not harder – than him, and here he was acting like a child. He turned towards the doors.

"Sorry. Okay, I'm going."

Bruce nodded but called after him when he was half-way to the exit. "Dick."

"Yeah?" He looked over his shoulder.

"You're still grounded. Three weeks. No TV, no computers, no video games. School and home. That's it."

"Okay. That's fair." Actually it was very generous as far as Dick was concerned. He started for the door again, then paused. "What about Robin?"

The man tilted his chin up slightly and sighed. "Robin is grounded, too."


	2. Part II

_**Author's Note:**_ Thanks for all your reviews on this story so far! I'll be alternating between this and 'Deluge in the Wasteland' so you'll probably be getting something like a chapter a week of one or the other. Except towards the end of November where I'll be in an area with very limited internet connection, but that just means I'll get to write ahead. Once again, special thanks to 8swords for beta reading! Enjoy!

* * *

><p>After retrieving jeans, a long-sleeve shirt, and a red hoodie from his locker, Dick went to look for the kid in the kitchen. Bruce – Batman – came with him for which he was grateful. Left without that grounding force that his mentor always provided in stressful situations, he knew there was a good chance he'd run at the mouth and say something stupid. As it was, Wally was doing a perfectly good job of that.<p>

"He won't eat," the red-head complained. "Like... anything. We've got perfectly good chili dogs, and he just stares at them."

Ignoring him Dick turned to the boy who was standing in the far corner, eying the Flashes suspiciously. He held out the neatly folded pile of clothes.

"Here," he said as cheerfully as possible. "Just roll up the sleeves."

The boy stared at the pile uncomprehendingly. "What's this for?"

Dick blinked. "For you. While we throw your stiff in the wash. You don't want to drip everywhere, right?"

Jason shrugged. "It's just water."

Helpless, Dick looked to Batman. The man looked down at the child for a moment, then walked over to a cabinet, pulled out a nutrition bar, and made sure the boy was watching as he unwrapped it, broke of a small piece, methodically chewed then swallowed. He handed the rest to the child.

"There's nothing harmful or poisoned here," he assured him. "No one will take your clothes after they're washed and dried. You can have them back immediately. You have my word."

Still a bit wary, Jason took the bar. "If you say so. When can I go back?"

"Pft, why would you want to go back to that hell hole?" Wally crossed his arms.

Dick marveled at his friend's complete lack of a brain-to-mouth filter. It didn't even cross his mind that he'd not just insulted the boy's only home – such as it was – but Gotham as a whole and Batman and himself with it. He was about to tell him to 'shut up' before Bruce's silent glare did it for him.

"We can't send you back out there if you don't have a place to stay or someone to look after you," Batman said reasonably. "Tonight you will stay here. There are empty quarters for you to sleep in. I have a contact in the Gotham police department who can get in touch with social services. We can proceed from there."

Jason, clearly unimpressed, rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. You know what the chances of a kid my age finding a decent home are? People want babies. Fat, pink ones that smell nice. Best I'm gonna get is some house with ten other kids and someone who just wants another monthly check from social services. Thanks, but no thanks. I told you I do just fine on my own."

_Make him stop saying that!_ Dick shouted silently. If he wasn't so distressed, he might have been impressed that this kid just gave _Batman_ a long lecture on how he knew better than he did. And Batman wasn't arguing! He just tilted his head slightly, completely devoid of emotion.

"Regardless, you _will_ remain here for the night. We can discuss other options tomorrow. Robin will remain here tonight as well. He will show you to your quarters, and if you need anything, ask him."

The boy looked at him as if he was absolutely sure there was no way in which Dick might be at all useful to him. Robin looked to his mentor with a silent but clear look. They'd long ago learned to use expressions and body language just as well as open conversation.

_I thought I was grounded. Barred from the mountain?_

And in return he received, _After tonight. Tonight you're going to be responsible for bringing him here._

Walking down the to the spare quarters with Jason a step behind him, Dick could feel the boy's eyes locked onto the back of his head. He slowed slightly once they got closer and finally stopped at an open door. Turning to Jason, he saw that the kid was glancing into the empty room with clear suspicion, like he didn't know what might be waiting inside. Robin took the first step in and flipped the light switch.

"So you get to crash here tonight. There's a bathroom right through there." He pointed just outside and left of where they came from. "And my room's down the hall. Knock if you need anything or just... I dunno... wanna hang or something."

Jason didn't say anything, eyes still traveling around the room as if it was the inside of some alien space pod. He didn't look overwhelmed... or underwhelmed... Robin was wondering if this is what just 'whelmed' looked like. It was kind of... blank.

"Look, I promise none of us bite." He tried again. "I'm from Gotham too, and I know it's kinda scary..."

"No, you don't." The kid interrupted, frowning at him as if he'd said something completely stupid. "Just because you swing 'round rooftops, don't mean you know Gotham."

* * *

><p>He should have probably been doing this in the cave, but the time it took to travel by Zeta Beam to Gotham and drive to the manor was a full twenty minutes longer than simply teleporting to the Watchtower. Batman could hack into most systems in the world from the machines there almost as well as from his own computer in the cave, and it was not like he needed access anything terribly top secret. For the boy's records, he just needed the name.<p>

Batman read once, then again, and a third time. He wished he could say a single thing in the child's file surprised him, but knowing his city, it was pretty much exactly what he had expected to see. He must have been staring at the screen for hours because the space outside the station had begun to slowly but surely show sighs of light. Huddled away in his own corner of the observation deck, the group on watch didn't bother him. Besides most knew to steer clear of the dark knight when he wore that particular expression. Only two of his teammates had the courage to approach him when he was like this.

"Batman?" the gentle female voice spoke behind him. When he didn't respond, she repeated in a slightly more hushed tone. "Bruce?"

Finally he looked up, his weary eyes meeting Diana's clearly concerned ones. The Amazon offered him a smile, as if reassured that he was still with them. Sometimes, the rare instances he let his guard down, she or Clark would give him one of those looks that made him think that his friends were seriously concerned for his sanity. It wasn't that – not yet. He was just tired.

"I'm fine," he reassured her.

An elegant dark brow went up. "Really?"

"Really. Dick just decided to remind me he's thirteen and everything that comes with it."

She laughed. "Barry told us about the car. I hope you were not too harsh on the children."

_Great_, he thought, wondering for how long it would be the topic of gossip.

"Consider parenthood, Princess." He said with as much sarcasm as possible. "I highly recommend it. Kids are always a joy and not at all stressful."

Diana rolled her eyes as if _he_ were the child telling a terrible fib. "You love Dick."

"I do. That doesn't mean he's not solely responsible for my graying hair."

She laughed again. "Is that not how it should be?"

When he didn't respond, she looked at the monitor and still open files. A small crease appeared between her brows, and the Amazon put a hand on the back of his chair leaning closer.

"Are you considering adopting again?"

"What?" He looked up and realized that the screen was open to a school picture of Jason. "No. That's the stowaway they unknowingly picked up. I'm going over his file to see if there are any relatives we can call. Doesn't look like that."

Her eyes scanned over the words, expression growing more and more sad. "Poor child."

Bruce nodded. "His mother died of a drug overdoes six months ago, and I haven't been able to locate his father. Jason said he might be in jail, but I don't see any inmates in Gotham or Bludhaven matching his description."

"You think he's dead," Diana looked at him. He nodded. "Who has he been living with since his mother's death?"

"By himself." She stared at him. "In the old apartment on the East End that they shared or even out on the streets. He got lucky that it happened towards the end of spring. If Dick and Wally hadn't picked him up, I'm not sure he would have survived a winter in Gotham."

The horrified look she gave him reminded Bruce yet again that Diana was still new to the world outside Paradise Island. As Wonder Woman, she had seen plenty of poverty and crime around the world, but as the old saying went, a single death was a tragedy, but a hundred, just a statistic. One grew numb to it. It was different seeing all the horrors on the face of one child. He had no doubt that that was also why the whole thing was hitting Dick so hard.

"What are you going to do?" the woman asked.

He pressed his lips. "I don't know. He can't stay at Mt. Justice, but..." _but he's right about the foster care system, especially in Gotham._

As if reading his mind, Diana gave him a sympathetic look. "Go home, Bruce. Take Dick and go home. I'm sure this boy..."

"Jason."

"Jason." She agreed. "I'm sure Jason will be just fine with the others for a day. If you want, Clark or I can stop by and check on them."

"Huh, right," he scoffed.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Bruce!"

"It's nothing. You're right: I'm going home."

* * *

><p>Dick wasn't surprised when he emerged in the early morning after just a few hours of sleep and found the door to the guest room locked. The boy was either still sleeping or not too keen on coming out just yet, which he could understand. Dressed in civilian clothes, though with the customary sunglasses, he wandered over to the main living area. Artemis and M'Gann were laughing about something to the side, while Wally was trying to explain the movie currently paused on their big screen TV to Kaldur and Conner who looked more confused than interested, but that rarely deterred the speedster.<p>

"Thought you were banned from here," Dick threw at him.

Wally made a face. "Yeah, well, I figure since you're stuck here, I'm on temporary parole, too. I'll go when Bats comes to collect you and the kid."

"Heh." Artemis crossed her arms as she and M'Gann walked over to join them. "Just admit you're stalling the inevitable. You're more afraid of your _mom_ than Batman."

"Hey, hey!" the red-head objected. "Batman has that no-killing rule. My mom? Not so much. Though I don't envy this one." He jabbed his thumb at Robin. "How much did you get?"

Dick shrugged. "Three weeks."

His best friend stared at him. "That's how long he kicked us out of here for. I thought he'd have you... cleaning the Batcave with a toothbrush or something."

"He's not _that_ bad." Dick frowned, feeling defensive. "Anyway, my wings are clipped. No Robin at all for the next three weeks, here _or_ in Gotham. It's punishment by boredom."

"That's it? Dude, I'll trade you."

"I think," Kaldur interrupted before Dick could say he would never 'trade' parents, "we're all much more interested in a different matter than your respective punishments."

"Yeah," Artemis grinned. "Tell us how it was driving the Batmobile."

"That car? Totally gets the babes," Wally wagged his brows at her suggestively, not at all put off by the disgusted look she gave him in return.

"I meant," Kaldur corrected with practiced patience. "I, for one, am curious about this boy you brought back. Batman told me nothing before he departed for the Watchtower. I know he stowed away, but why is he still here?"

"Oh!" M'Gann blinked excitedly. "Is he a meta-human? Are we getting a new teammate?"

"No," Robin shook his head. "It's very temporary. He's got nowhere else to go, so while Batman figures it out, he's going to hang around here."

Conner frowned. "What do you mean he 'has nowhere else to go'? What about where you got him from?"

"The streets of Gotham's East End?" the youngest shot back more harshly than he'd intended. It wasn't Conner's fault certain concepts were still a little foreign to him. Still frowning, the Kryptonian must have still been confused but understood enough to drop the matter for now.

"Can we meet him?" M'Gann tried. "What's his name? How old is he?"

"His name is Jason. He's..." Dick stopped when he realized he had no idea about the boy's age except for the fact that he was obviously younger than himself. "I don't know. Maybe... eight?"

"That's wishful thinking," Wally gave him a look. "I've seen bigger action figures."

"Why am I not surprised you still play with action figures," Artemis smirked.

"Is he still sleeping?" Kaldur asked Robin. "I am certain he means no harm but also concerned about leaving a civilian child unsupervised here."

"Good call." Dick wondered why he hadn't thought of that. "I think he's still sleeping, but I'll go check."

But when he got to the room, he found the door opened and the bed empty. A pillow and covers were tossed haphazardly on the floor, but Jason was nowhere in sight. There were no sounds coming from the bathroom, so Dick ran for the next possible place: the kitchen. If the kid wasn't there, there would be big trouble.

Fortunately Jason was there. Dressed haphazardly in the over-sized clothes Dick had given him, the sleeves flopped in a funny way. At least he was clean. He'd climbed onto the counter and was just trying to open the cabinet that held the nutrition bars. When Dick came in, he froze for a second, before his face hardened.

"I wasn't stealing." The boy informed him defensively.

"I know," Dick smiled. "You're just looking for breakfast, but we have stuff way than those bars. Come on. Come down from there, and I'll give you the run of the fridge." Jason eyed at him warily. "Look, you trust Batman, right? And he trusts me," _most of the time_, "ergo you should trust me, too."

The boy seemed to ponder over that logic, then, apparently having found it sound, hopped down from the counter and wandered over to the refrigerator where Robin was standing. Dick opened the door and peered inside.

"Let's see. We've got... a bunch of stuff that's way too healthy for our own good, bacon we can nuke in the microwave, leftover nachos. Eww! How old are those, anyway? Oh! Chocolate milk. Here, hold this." He handed him the almost full quarter gallon. "Pancake mix... mmm... let's go simpler." He opened the freezer and pulled out a box of frozen waffles. "Want anything on these? Whipped cream and chocolate syrup?"

Jason hesitated but nodded. Dick pulled the remaining items out of the fridge and set them on the counter, just as the door swished open admitting the rest of his team. They stared at Jason, whose eyes doubled in size when they landed on M'Gann. For a street-wise smart-mouthed little kid who'd dared talk back to Batman, he looked completely in awe now.

"You're green!"

The girl blushed, a little flustered, but before Conner could get defensive on her behalf Dick quickly intervened.

"Yup, she's green. And you're short. And Aqualad has gills. And Wally had red hair and his mouth works faster than his feet, but we don't hold it against him. Let's try for some P. around here."

Jason kept staring. "Are you an alien?"

She laughed. "How did you know?"

"'Cause you're green."

"Not all aliens are green," the girl smiled, indicating her boyfriend. "Conner, here, is Kryptonian. You'd never know he was an alien, too."

Probably trying only for the boy's benefit, Conner smiled a little in his direction, though Dick could see he didn't like this thread of conversation. Jason looked at him, looked at M'Gann, then at Aqualad, probably wondering why no one had called _him_ an alien with those gills. Finally his gaze settled back on Superboy.

"What's a Kryptonian?" he asked more with genuine curiosity than any hostility.

"That means he's related to Superman. Cool, right?" Wally put in helpfully. He was no doubt trying to connect the dots for him to a figure Jason would easily recognize, but it earned him a glare from Conner. He spread his hands apologetically. "Touchy subject. Sorry, dude."

If anyone was expecting the boy to gawk, that didn't happen. Jason crossed his arms, looking as unimpressed as his four foot under height allowed. "Big whoop. Anyone can throw a punch."

There was a second of silence that finally broken by Conner's laughter. Dick wasn't sure if he'd actually ever heard it. Smiles were still a new thing, but he actually threw back his head and laughed. Grinning at Jason, he reached out and ruffled his hair much to the boy's annoyance.

"I like this kid. Can we keep him?"


End file.
